A shot in the dark
by Sapphire1112
Summary: A different take on the last episodes of series 21. I do not own the characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Nikki**

Jack and I in particular, have had one hell of a year – as Clarissa has pointed out on more than one occasion.

The two of us were close before we went to Mexico, but what happened there created a huge void between us. You'd think something like that would have brought us closer, but at the time, it did the opposite. In the months I had off work to recuperate afterwards, Jack refused to see me, speak to me on the phone – or even communicate by text.

After I got back to work, I understood that he'd behaved that way out of a feeling of guilt and once I'd reassured him that he was in no way to blame for my near-death experience abroad, I was confident that we were back on track. Then I got injured. Jack undoubtedly blamed himself for that to, because he was angry and I was trying to stop him from killing the bloke -but as a result I was near enough for Brian Hawke to throw a punch at me. After that, it seemed like the bond we once had was completely severed – _forever_.

It didn't help that I'd secretly been having therapy for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and my general view of the world – and everything in it was significantly warped. Jack suffered just as much as I did after Mexico but no one considered that he went through the same as me because he was on the other side of it – he wasn't trapped in a box. I doubt if _he's_ even considered that he went through it too. The two of us have always confided in each other, but when the bond between us was severed, Jack wouldn't talk to me any more – and I couldn't talk to him.

Despite our estrangement, when Jack learnt I was suffering from PTSD, he was right back by my side and since then, we've helped each other. Now we're closer then we've ever been.

I want to be more than best friends – and I know he does to, but we're both afraid it'll go wrong. We're both too scared to make the first move. Maybe things will develop on their own.

It's Christmas now – finally! I thought this year would never end!

It's Christmas Eve and I'm on call as usual. They like us all to be on call at Christmas, so Thomas is on call to – though Jack and Clarissa probably won't get asked to come in until after us – that's up to Thomas and he'll probably leave it for half an hour or so.

It's the season to be merry – but it also seems to be one of the worst for crime. The bodies pile up at Christmas. It's kind of sad, but I don't mind working over Christmas – it's not like I have family, so I'm usually alone anyway.

But not this year.

Like I said, Jack and I are closer than ever. He's asked me to spend Christmas with him and his Dad. Tomorrow, the plan is to have Christmas lunch at the pub with the rest of his family – unless we get called out. Jack's brother, Ryan, will not be there. He's still incarcerated at her majesty's pleasure.

It took a little bit of persuasion from Jack to get me to agree to join him for Christmas at his – well technically his father's place. It's not that I don't want to – it's what I've always wanted. I just don't want his family to think I'm imposing on them – Christmas should be a family occasion after all. However, when I tried to point this out, the response Jack gave was:

"You're my best friend – and I want you there."

He said it very firmly and well, I couldn't argue with that, could I?

I like Jack's Dad – he's a decent man and I especially like how he insists that Ryan's crimes were his own choice and therefore down to him – and him alone. Jack _needs_ to hear that. He needs to know that his Dad doesn't blame him.

The three of us have a lovely evening watching the Muppet's Christmas Carol with a takeaway – Jack's Dad prefers Chinese, so that's what we go for. We follow it up with The Wizard of Oz and a glass of wine. I love The Wizard of Oz, but it makes me cry every time – and sometimes watching it is bitter-sweet. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to watch it. It's just that sometimes it brings back memories of my idealistic childhood Christmases in Africa before my Mum died – and before my Dad succumbed to a life of crime. Back then, I had no idea how lucky I was. I feel the tears brewing. Jack sighs and hands me a tissue.

At the end of the film, Jack's Dad retires to bed – first giving his son a hug, and then me a polite peck on the cheek.

"I'll sleep out here – you can have my bed." Jack offers after his Dad has gone.

It's an unusual suggestion. Jack and I often stay over with each other and we've always shared. For one thing – it saves having to make up another bed - _and_ saves on the washing. It's never caused a problem before, but sometimes, the older generation don't agree with non-marital co-habitation because it goes against what they believe in and it's not what they're used to. I decide that Jack must be respecting his Dad's wishes. I must also comply.

"It's ok." I smile, leaning up to give him a gentle peck on the cheek. "I understand."

"You...understand?" He repeats slowly. "You understand what?"

"You have to respect your Dad's wishes." I explain. "It's important." He has a closer relationship to his father than I ever had with mine – at least in the latter years, and he should cherish that. I watch Jack as the meaning of my answer dawns on him.

"It's not my Dad." He tells me. "He doesn't mind."

Ok – so it would appear Jack is trying his hand at chivalry – for reasons best known to himself!

"Ah." I answer again softly. "So you're being chivalrous?"

"It's only a single bed." He mutters by way of explanation.

"The bed at your flat is only a single bed and it's never bothered you before!" I point out. "No pressure though." I add in a whisper, leaning up to give him a second peck before I depart. "You know where I am if you change your mind!" My hand trails behind me as I leave, catching his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Goodnight sweetie."

"Goodnight." I hear hear him murmur as I go into his room.

I glance back and see him still stood in that same spot, staring after me with that longing gaze he always has. I smile at him before pushing the door to and wonder how long it will take him to follow.

 _Five minutes_ after I switch the light off, I hear his light footsteps creeping into the room.

"Better?" He asks, climbing over me. For some reason, he always likes to be next to the wall. He slips under the duvet and drapes his arm loosely over me.

"Mm-hm." I agree. "I didn't think it would take you very long!"

"No." He mutters – rather vaguely, suggesting that whatever has been bothering him all evening is still very much on his mind.

"You ok?" I ask in concern.

"Huh?"

He's definitely distracted. "You've seemed a little distracted all evening, sweetie." I remark, putting my thoughts into words – in the hope he will do the same. "That's all."

"Oh." He answers. "Yeah." He pauses and I wait. I've done my bit – now it's up to him. If he wants to tell me, he will.

"Dad wants me to go and see Ryan with him." He says eventually.

"That's great!" I exclaim enthusiastically. "Isn't it?"

I can tell he's not convinced – and he seems unusually nervous. "I...I...I just don't think he'll want to see me." He mutters.

Jack always takes the blame on his shoulders, but I know that there is more to it this time. This is Ryan's second time in prison and though he was convicted of a different crime this time round, his previous record was taken into account, and had a bearing on his current sentence.

Jack's guilt for his older brother's predicament does not have it's roots in Ryan's current prison sentence. It comes from the circumstances of his first imprisonment – which Jack was partially responsible for. Ryan started the fight back then – but it was Jack who broke the man's jaw. I know he didn't mean to – he doesn't know his own strength sometimes. He got away with it because the man in question didn't see him coming – and Ryan chose to protect his little brother by going down for it. He even persuaded Jack to testify against him in court, so that his reputation and career remained intact.

In Jack's heart, he believes that the guilty should be punished – and he knows that he was guilty of the crime his brother was sent down for.

We've all got guilty secrets – and Jack's eats away at him.

"Like your Dad said, this crime was Ryan's own fault – and he nearly got you killed in the process." I add trying with great difficulty, to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I'm not sure I could have forgiven Ryan if Jack hadn't survived.

"But-" Jack begins.

I cut him off before he gets any further – perhaps rather sharply, because he tenses up. " _No!_...no." I repeat, softening my tone. "Ryan _chose_ to protect you last time. It was his choice – just like it was his choice this time, to commit a crime that led to people getting killed, including Hannah and nearly his own brother." I tell him quietly. " _It was not your fault._ "

"Ok." He agrees and we lie in silence for a bit.

After a while, his breathing changes slightly and I know that he's asleep. I decide that I had better try to sleep to – in case I get a call during the night.

My phone rings and wakes me up in the early hours. I blink first – wondering where the _hell_ I am, then quickly answer my phone before it gets loud enough to wake Jack's Dad.

"Hello?" I say. Of course it's a call out. After asking for the address, I hang up and turn to find Jack watching me sleepily. At some point in the night I've ended up lying on his arm – but he doesn't appear to have noticed. His accent comes out very strongly – making it nigh on impossible for someone unfamiliar to understand him, but I do.

" _They're making you leave, aren't they!_ " he grumbles – groggy with sleep.

Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that. It was a statement more than a question and he made it sound rather like I'm being exiled from the country!

"Mm-hm." I agree, leaning over to give him a kiss. "Try and get some more sleep before Thomas calls you." I instruct. "Happy Christmas!"

"Oh – Yeah. Happy Christmas!" He mumbles, turning over, once I've released his arm by sitting up.

"See you later." I whisper as I exit the room after getting ready – but he's already fast asleep.

It's not until later that I realise I kissed him on the lips this morning. I've never done that before. I don't think he realised at the time either.

"Can't get away from each other, can we?" I almost chuckle later when Clarissa announces over my ear piece that Jack is on his way to the scene.

"Is that what you want?" She asks.

The ear pieces are part of a new comms system we're trying and so far, it seems to work quite well. We are also are wearing cameras down at the scene – sending pictures back to the Lyell. It occurs to me that Clarissa and Thomas are not necessarily aware that Jack and I were planning to spend Christmas together anyway, considering that we didn't exactly announce the fact - so she probably thinks I was looking forward to a break from him.

"You said yourself – it's been one hell of a year!" I answer – neither confirming nor denying her question.

"It's not over yet!" She points out.

True, it's not. The call out is a shoot-out at a family home – a big house, housing a family called 'McMorris'. A whole family shot at Christmas – I mean, who would do such a thing? But someone has.

The action at the scene doesn't start until after Jack's arrived – not that I'm, blaming him for it.

"This is not the Christmas I was expecting!" He remarks announcing his arrival over the comms – without actually saying 'hello' to anyone.

I hear Clarissa and Thomas – who's also back at the Lyell, chuckle over my ear piece.

"Hello Jack!" The former greets him.

"We're about to head inside." I inform him, glancing up just in time to see a slightly shy smile. I wonder whether it's just occurred to him that I kissed him on the lips when we woke up.

"They're going to go over to McMorris's haulage company. See what they can find out there." DI Gibbs tells me.

"This is Jack. DI Gibbs." I say, introducing them to each other.

"Hi" He answers politely.

"Morning." Gibbs nods at him. "The DCI is on his way." She continues. "They were already looking for Mr McMorris, but at least now they know he's not the body in the four-by-four."

"This is where the gunman was probably standing." I announce, taking up a stance a little way off from the burnt-out vehicle.

"Take a photo." Clarissa instructs from over the ear piece. "I'll see if I can identify-"

She never gets the chance to complete her sentence, because a gunshot rings out at the scene.

 **Jack**

We all freeze momentarily in shock - and then run for cover.

"What was that?!" I hear Clarissa say. "Nikki? Jack?" Then she yells for Thomas.

"A gunshot." Nikki answers from her hiding place. "I don't know where it came from."

Her voice sounds tiny because my ears are ringing from the gunshot. I try to spot her through the tree leaves but she's out of sight. I can hear her over the comms, so I know she's alive and unhurt, but I need to _see_ that she's ok with my own eyes.

"Nikki, stay where you are." Clarissa instructs firmly.

"Armed command, get them back in here!" I yell. Then my blood runs cold when I hear Thomas over the comms from the Lyell.

" _Has she been shot?"_

I immediately think that Nikki's been hit after all. " _Nikki_!" I yell, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of her. To my overwhelming relief, she yells back.

"I'm fine!"

The bullet must have hit the DI.

"What can you see?" I shout – then wish I hadn't. I need her to stay hidden – where she's safe but now I can see her craning her neck around the wall to get a look. It's one of the _few_ times she done as she's told and for once, I wish she hadn't.

"Stay where you are!" I bellow desperately. " _Stay where you are!_ "

I hear Nikki mutter something but due to my current level of hearing after the earlier bang, it's something that I can't catch. I can guess what it is though - there's no way that Nikki would look, see Gibbs and _not_ go over to help. Once again, I regret asking her to 'describe the scene' because my worst fears are confirmed when she springs up and darts across to where Gibbs is collapsed in pain. Nikki did indeed say she was going to help.

" _Shit!_ " I retort.

I hear Thomas's exasperated voice. "Oh no! Nikki!"

Like I said, Nikki has to help everyone even if it puts her directly in the firing line – quite literally this time. She never listens to me when I'm trying to keep her safe. _Why does she never bloody listen?!_

Nikki drops down next to Gibbs. "Where's the gunman?" She demands of the casualty. "Did you see him?"

"No." Gibbs answers, groaning in pain. "Please...please..."

"Stay awake now." Nikki instructs calmly – her doctor head firmly on.

Gibbs groans again. "I can't!"

"Has anyone seen the gunman?" I yell. I'm cut off when another bullet ricochets, and as I'm coming to terms with it, I hear Clarissa's distinct – but far away voice. She sounds worried.

"Is Jack safe?"

It's followed by Nikki's even more terrified voice yelling: "I don't know. _Jack?!_ "

"Yeah I'm here! Stay down! The gunman seems to be firing at the car."

Which is where Nikki and Gibbs are. Again, Nikki ignores me and doesn't stay down far enough.

As I'm about to repeat my warning, I'm stopped in my tracks by another gunshot. Nikki cries out and I see her fall forward from where she's been crouching over Gibbs.

" _Nikki!_ " I yell in horror and disbelief – for there is no doubt that the bullet hit her this time. " _Nikki!_ "

I hear Thomas over the comms. " _Nikki?_ Talk to me – are you hurt?"

She gasps and manages to sit up, clutching her upper arm – which is oozing blood. "I'm fine." Because she always is. No matter what. "It just got my arm. _Stay there, Jack!_ " She adds firmly – seemingly aware that I'm preparing to join her next to Gibbs.

If she thinks that I'm staying here when she's hurt – she's got another think coming.

It's my turn to ignore her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Nikki**

I try to continue to apply pressure to Gibb's abdomen – and to keep her talking and calm, but now I have the added inconvenience of pain – and a wound of my own that urgently needs pressure. I decide to try and ignore mine – despite the blood that's spurting and making me feel queasy. As a pathologist, I'm used to the sight of blood and the gory bits that come from people's insides – but it doesn't usually come from me. Still, I have my doctor head on and I'm absolutely determined to remain focused on my patient – though this repeatedly requires me to lean forwards and breathe through the pain.

It's one such occasion, when an arm wraps itself around my waist, pulling me upright into a sitting position. His other hand closes tightly around my upper arm – applying the pressure it so badly needs, for with neglecting my own needs in favour of helping Gibbs, I can feel myself getting weaker as the gushing blood saps my energy.

"I...told...you...not...to!" I hiss crossly between gasps. "Why...didn't you...listen?"

"You didn't listen to me either," He counters. "So-"

We hear Thomas sigh and I can imagine Clarissa rolling her eyes.

"You two, this is _not_ the time for a domestic!" The former retorts loudly.

"Right. Sorry." We both mutter – considering ourselves suitably told off.

Jack momentarily releases his grip on my arm and rips a piece off his forensic suit to tie around the wound. It makes me gasp when he ties so tightly – and then for a moment, I want to cry. He loves his forensic suits – they're a sort of 'rite of passage' in his job – and he's just ripped one. It's silly really, but then I'm a bit emotional due to the pain.

I gather myself and refocus on my patient.

"I need to put more pressure on the wound." I tell her – and prepare to do just that, but Jack stops me and does it instead. Gibbs groans again as he does so. It's not pleasant – but hopefully it means it's working and stemming the blood flow.

"What's your name?" I ask – intent on keeping her talking.

"It's...Jen...nie." She answers.

"Jennie." I repeat.

"I'm sor-sorry you got hit." she manages to stammer.

"Armed command are on their way, Nikki." Jack tells me – apparently having heard it over the comms. To be honest, I haven't been paying much attention to the voices in the background.

"I need you to hold it." I tell Gibbs – aware that armed command will want Jack and I out the way when they arrive. "Can you put your hand here?" I indicate where Jack's hands are.

"They're here. Come on Nikki, we've got to go." He says.

"Is there anything else you can do?" Jennie gasps. "Am I going to be ok?"

"You are." I reassure her. "You are."

"Shots are coming from that direction" Jack yells at the armed officers, waving his arm. "There's an officer down in need of urgent medical assistance and Dr Alexander's been shot in the arm."

"This...Christmas...was going...to be...different." Jennie gasps.

"It is." I state firmly. "And one that you'll remember!"

"Yeah. Yeah." She agrees.

"Nikki, come on!" Jack repeats urgently.

As we get up, keeping low and turn to run into hiding, another gunshot ricochets. We both cry out this time and collapse on the ground, but only briefly as Jack manages to scramble to his feet, pulling me with him.

" _Go. Go!_ " He hisses pushing me in front of him – and into the house where we think we're out of harm's way.

All I can hear is ringing and I know that I've been shot in the hand this time. Judging by the way I felt him tense up as I landed on him, Jack's been shot to.

Inside the house, we collapse against the wall, panting. We stay there a while and it's clear by his face that all Jack can hear is ringing to.

Once the sound begins to die down, we both realise that our ear pieces are as dead as a dodo. We can hear no one on them. Jack is about to throw his away in disgust - _the whole thing_ , when I stop him.

"No wait. We can't hear them – but maybe they can hear us." I explain, indicating the mic and the camera. " _That hit you_ , didn't it?" I add, ignoring the pain in my hand and not looking at what I know deep down, is fresh blood. I'm pretty certain there was only one bullet released that time, and it definitely hit Jack. I can't see how one bullet could have hit us both – so I tell myself that I'm imaging it.

"I don't want to talk about it." He mumbles, hauling me to my feet. "Come on, we'll be safer further in."

"Thomas, Clarissa – if you can hear us, we're going further into the house where it's safer." I repeat – just to make our position clear.

We're running on adrenalin at the moment and neither of us dare to stop and check the fresh wounds. We creep through the house, describing in soft tones what we find – just in case the information gets through. There are more bodies in the house – including a teenage girl, who would appear to have been in the process of making a drink. She must be one of McMorris's daughters. A young girl – what a sad waste of a life.

We go down some stairs as another shot rings out. We both crouch down at the bottom of the stairs.

"Shit They're getting closer." I whisper. "That sounded like it was _in_ the house."

"It'll be ok." Jack whispers back – obviously wanting to reassure me. "I know where we can go." He adds, suddenly spotting something. He leads me out an open door, cautiously looking around to make sure we don't come face-to-face with the gunman. "They won't find us down here." He beams, removing the drain cover. "Can you manage with your arm?"

"I'll be fine." I insist.

However, going down the ladder is easier said, than done, for it becomes apparent as we climb down, that the second bullet went through my hand and is now in Jack's back. The blood oozes freely from a wound just below his shoulder, soaking through his forensic suit and I wonder how on earth he's still even standing.

The place goes really dark as he pulls the cover back over above him and we have to continue by _feeling_ our way down – though once our eyes adjust to the darkness I can make out his silhouette above me.

" _Jack!_ " I hiss as we reach the bottom of the ladder. "I saw before you closed the drain again - you're bleeding _really_ badly."

"So are you." he answers, unconcerned by his own injury. "And you've been shot _twice_!"

"Oh. Well thanks for the reminder!" I mutter as he leads me along the sewer tunnel. What is it about Jack and sewers?!

"Can we stop?" I beg, finding myself exhausted as the current adrenalin rush comes to it's end.

He stops and turns to me in fright. I don't need to see his face to know that he's frightened by the perilous and potentially fatal situation we've found ourselves in. I know he's frightened before he even speaks – and when he does, his accent is barely intelligible. He speaks too fast when he's scared. " _Areyougoingtocollapse?_ "

"No, I'm not going to collapse." I reassure him. "I just need a little rest, that's all." He seems relieved. " _And_ I need to examine your back." I add. "Have you got a torch?" He always carries a torch in his pocket.

I can just about make out the outline of his head nodding. "Well, we should be safe enough here for now, I should think." He says, helping me through the water to perch on a pipe. It's not the most comfortable seat – but it will have to do for now. He unzips his suit and fumbles about before pulling out a little pocket torch.

"Lean forward a bit." I instruct, trying to help him out of his forensic suit. I have to stop, because I fear that it's causing more damage to the wound – and what with the dim torchlight and the forensic suit, I can't get a very good look – but I don't like what I can see. " _Jack_." I say in almost a whisper. "It looks really bad. With the amount of blood I can see, I can't imagine how you're still upright!"

"I'm fine." He responds with a shrug – one that he obviously regrets, because he grunts in pain.

" _Ea-sy_!" I warn him. "I can't see well enough to know how close to your heart the bullet is – so _please_ , be careful and don't move too much. If the bullet catches your heart, I don't have the equipment to save you down here!"

"If I die, I die." He mutters – again unconcerned for his own well-being.

I shake my head at him in the darkness of our current prison. "If I _dared_ to say something like that, Jack, you'd _yell_ at me!" I point out tearfully. "I don't want to lose you any more than you want to lose me."

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry." He whispers softly, offering me the comfort of his other arm. "I shouldn't of said that. I'll be careful – I promise."

"Good. - and please let me know if you start feeling worse, ok? None of that 'macho' stuff you like to do." I add firmly.

"Ok, I will." He answers. "But that goes for you to, Nikki. You always _say_ you're fine when you're not."

"Ok."

" _Otherwise_...I will retract the offer of spending Christmas at my Dad's with you!" He chuckles. "And no pizza for _three_ weeks!"

I can't help giggling at that. I turn to lift my mic with my good hand – deciding suddenly that I ought to offer further information on our current situation. "Thomas, Clarissa, if you can hear us, we are down the sewer-"

Jack gives an involuntary snigger – apparently finding the funny side to our predicament.

"Shusssh!" I chide him. "Anyway, we went down the drain at the back of the house. We need medical assistance – Jack's been shot in the back and I don't know how serious it is but he's losing a lot of blood-"

At this point, Jack chooses to interrupt – _intent_ on pointing out that I'm also losing blood. He leans down to my mic, despite having his own. "Nikki's been shot _twice_ – once in the right arm and the other bullet went through her right hand! She needs help _more_ than me!"

" _Jack!_ " I reproach him – he just can't help himself and is starting to act all macho, playing down his injury.

"Sorry." He mutters and then appears to decide he needs to try and put things right, adding. " _We're both in a bad way and we both need urgent medical assistance_."

I'm not sure that was particularly helpful, but he is trying!


End file.
